


Who Came and Never Left Your Side

by Nike_SGA



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017), The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: Alma Cackle has a lot to answer for, Fix-it fic, Friendship, Gen, Minor spoilers for 3.07, Pippa Pentangle is a pent-angel, Pre-Series, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 23:30:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17755574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nike_SGA/pseuds/Nike_SGA
Summary: "It’s not that she and Joy have ever been particularly close, is the thing, Pippa muses as she settles into a chair in the library and pulls out her chanting revision. In the three years since she started at Cackle’s, they’ve never really had a proper conversation. Oh, they’ve chatted – about magic and books and flying – and she’s always been struck by Joy’s easy confidence, her intellect, her determination. They’ve debated passages of the Witches’ Code, and sat next to one another in potions, and they’ve hung around with the same witches, and they’ve been friends, but Pippa’s friends with lots of people. They’ve never really talked about anything that…well, really mattered."'Bad Magic' head-canon because Pippa is the best and we all know it.





	Who Came and Never Left Your Side

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, so I haven't fanfictioned in a long time, and never in TWW17, but I just love these two disaster lesbians so much and I had a lot of feelings about 'Bad Magic' and this was the result. I've already spouted off on tumblr (@nike_sga), but this wouldn't leave me alone. Completely unbeta'd and written in an hour so please forgive any egregious errors, they are entirely my fault.

“Whatever she did, Cackle’s _furious_ ,” Esme observes idly over lunch one afternoon. “I heard she nearly got _expelled_.”

“ _I_ heard she’s got detention until the end of _fifth year_ ,” Natalie counters in an enthusiastic whisper.

“I heard she’s grounded. _Forever_ ,” chimes in Louise, and Pippa drops her cutlery onto her plate with a clatter and sighs. The others turn to stare at her. “What’s wrong with you?” Esme frowns.

“Can we just stop talking about it?” Pippa asks, shortly. “I mean, she is meant to be our friend.” As one, the other witches turn to stare at the solitary figure of Joy Hardbroom, quietly spooning soup into her mouth at the end of the table, face pale and eyes downcast.

“Well she’s not acting like it,” Esme huffs, and they resume eating in a strained sort of silence.

 

***

 

It’s not that she and Joy have ever been particularly _close_ , is the thing, Pippa muses as she settles into a chair in the library and pulls out her chanting revision. In the three years since she started at Cackle’s, they’ve never really had a proper conversation. Oh, they’ve chatted – about magic and books and flying – and she’s always been struck by Joy’s easy confidence, her intellect, her determination. They’ve debated passages of the Witches’ Code, and sat next to one another in potions, and they’ve hung around with the same witches, and they’ve been _friends,_ but Pippa’s friends with lots of people. They’ve never really talked about anything that…well, really mattered.

 She wonders then, why Joy’s sudden distance stings a little. She wonders why it makes her feel sad.

 

***

 

“They found out about her sneaking out, you know. She was always disappearing for hours out-of-bounds,” Natalie offers one evening. The others hum their acknowledgement. “Who knows _what_ she was up to.” 

The others share a knowing look, and Pippa can guess at what they’re thinking. _Boys_. That Joy’s been caught meeting up with some wizard or another from a neighbouring academy, and Cackle’s forbidden her from leaving the school ever again. But that just doesn’t seem…right, to Pippa. She knew about Joy’s slipping out, of course, they all had; she’d seen her one afternoon on the P.E. fields, broom in hand, and been sworn to secrecy by a press of Joy’s finger to her lips and a bright laugh. Later than night Joy had caught her under the staircase and pressed a strange device into her hands, smiling, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

“ _It’s music. Ordinary music. Just press the buttons. It’s ‘Madonna’. Trust me, you’ll **love** it!”_

“Have you seen what she’s done with her _hair_?” Louise asks, breaking Pippa out of her reverie, her tone scandalised as she drops onto the end of Natalie’s bed. “It’s so _severe._ ”

“It’s stupid,” Esme scoffs, picking up Pippa’s Science of Magic notes and copying down the swathes of instructions she’d missed during Miss Thornheart’s class. Pippa clenches her jaw. She had noticed Joy’s new hairstyle that morning, as they’d filtered in to Potions, the new, tight bun at the crown of her head replacing the pigtails she’s worn as long as Pippa had known her. It made her looks serious, yes, but not _stupid_. It accentuated the high sweep of her cheekbones, Pippa thought, and her dark eyes. Joy had always been pretty, especially when she smiled.

“I like your hair,” Pippa had whispered, as Joy went to take her seat next to her. Joy had frozen, glanced at Pippa with an expression Pippa couldn’t begin to fathom, and moved to sit next to Tabitha Grimm instead.

Joy never smiled, these days.

 

***

 

“And now she’s taken to calling herself ‘Hecate’!” Louise hisses, face flushed with hilarity. “ _Hecate Hardbroom!”_ She’s practically clutching her side and slapping her knee, and the falseness of it all makes Pippa’s stomach turn.

“She always did think she was the Goddesses’ gift to magic,” Esme observes drily, as they all allow their gazes to drift to where Joy – _no,_ Hecate, _Pippa thinks-_ sits in the library alone, half-hidden behind a book.

“Have you seen her do anything except study the bloody code since she got hauled up by Cackle?” Natalie observes, curiously.

“Oh, can we just stop _talking_ about her,” Esme flaps a hand dismissively. “I’m bored of her now.” Her voice is just loud enough to carry in the quiet air. “She’s obviously had her sense of humour magically removed.” A few heads turn; there’s no question as to whom she’s referring. Pippa watches a muscle twitch beside Joy’s mouth, the only sign she’s heard. Pippa’s chest aches.

 

The next evening, she slips into the library on her own, scans the tables quickly for the now-familiar high bun and rigid posture.

“Hey J- _Hecate_ ,” she trips over her words, nervous for a reason she can’t explain. “Do you mind?” She slides into the seat next to Hecate before she can protest, and releases her grip on the copy of the Code she had clutched tightly to her chest. Her neighbour regards her apprehensively. “You, um,” Pippa starts, and clears her throat. “You helped me study sections of the Code, before,” she offers, her own voice sounding timid to her ears. “I just thought…” Pippa trails off, and gestures at the book in front of her. “If you don’t mind?” she repeats uselessly.  Joy – _Hecate –_ blinks at her, and in the hush before she answers Pippa realises how terribly she doesn’t want to be sent away.

“If you like,” Hecate replies softly, and Pippa breathes.

 

***

 

They spend most evenings like this, now: in the library, just the two of them, studying the Code silently side by side. Occasionally Pippa will ask a stuttering question, or Hecate will offer up some opinions on a particularly confusing passage, and they’ll talk in halting sentences and awkward pauses. Pippa still sees the others in class and at break, and she shields herself against their indignation and scorn at her new friendship. Eventually, they drift away from her, and she lets them go readily. She finds she has less in common with them now than she did. If she ever really had. Conversation with Hecate comes more easily now, the silences more companionable than uncomfortable, and she can see the gratitude in Hecate’s eyes every night when she comes to sit beside her.

They’re engaged this way one evening, side-by-side at the table, Hecate helping Pippa with some Potions homework, because they’ve moved on from just the Code now, when Pippa suddenly needs to _know_.

“Hecate-”, she begins, tentatively, and Hecate stiffens, lays her hands flat against the pages in front of her.

“Please don’t ask me,” her voice curls around Pippa, low and anxious, and Pippa shakes her head at her misunderstanding.

“I won’t,” she replies softly, watching Hecate’s profile as she speaks. “I won’t. It’s not that.” Hecate raises her eyes gradually to meet her gaze, and a frown creases her forehead.

“What then?”

“It’s just...,” Pippa feels silly, huffs at herself, asks, “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Hecate’s shoulders loosen infinitesimally, and she looks a little confused as she nods slowly, echoes words from weeks before. “If you like. But-”

“But?”

Hecate turns so she’s facing Pippa and tilts her head. “Why? I’ve heard,” she glances back at her hands where they rest against the tabletop, “I’ve heard I’m not much fun to be around. Any more.” Her voice is stilted, her eyes doubtful and curious. Pippa smiles.

“I still like being around you,” she says gently, honestly, and something she’s felt about Hecate Hardbroom since the day she met Joy settles in her chest for her to examine later. She smiles, and rests her hand over Hecate’s. “And whatever’s happened, it’ll all be fine. You don’t have to tell me, but I believe that. You’ll be fine.” She squeezes Hecate’s hand a little, and after a moment, feels a barely-there pressure as Hecate squeezes back.

“All this, Hecate,” she says, meeting her dark brown eyes with certainty. “It’s only a hiccup.”

 

 

 

 


End file.
